The Caprilicious Jewellery Blog
A Treasure Trove of Statement Jewellery |
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Good day, folks. How are you today? I've been inundated at work and have a few minor health problems that I won't bore you with; however, these beautiful crystals arrived in the post and wouldn't sit obediently in my stash. As they were clamouring for attention, I felt I had no other option but to put them in a necklace - and so, here it is.  Crystal jewellery never really goes out of style. There’s something timeless about the way light catches every facet, creating sparkle and movement with even the simplest outfit. Pieces like Blue Lagoon are designed to feel bold yet wearable — the kind of jewellery that instantly elevates your look without trying too hard.  Many people assume crystal beads are natural gemstones, but most statement crystal jewellery is actually made from precision-cut Czech glass crystals. High-quality glass is melted at extremely high temperatures, shaped into beads, and then carefully cut and polished to maximise brilliance. Those tiny facets are what create the signature shimmer that crystals are known for.  Some crystals are also specially coated to enhance their colour and reflectivity. That’s how you get those rich ocean blues and luminous jewel tones that seem to glow in different lighting. The result is jewellery that catches the eye beautifully, both in daylight and in the evening.  One of the best things about crystal necklaces is how versatile they are. A layered piece like Blue Lagoon works just as well with a simple white shirt and denim as it does with an elegant evening dress. The pop of blue adds depth and interest without overpowering the outfit.  For styling, I always recommend letting statement jewellery be the focus. Open necklines, strapless styles, soft knits, or simple outfits create the perfect backdrop for crystal pieces to shine. You also don’t need many extra accessories — the necklace already does the work for you.  What I love most about crystal jewellery is that it feels expressive and joyful. It brings colour, texture, and light into an outfit in a way that feels effortless. Whether worn casually or for an occasion, it always adds a little touch of glamour.  The little micro pave diamante element adds a sweet touch to the necklace, and although it isn't immediately apparent in the pictures, it adds to the sparkly effect of the crystals, which you will certainly see when the necklace is worn.
That's me for this week, folks. Have a fabulous weekend, and I'll catch you soon. Until then xx
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Hello folks, it's nice to catch up with you again. We're still waiting for some steady sunshine - if we can't go anywhere because of the war, surely it's not too much to expect some decent weather where we are? I'm meant to be travelling to Seville and Florence this year - I hope that by the time we are ready to leave this country, things are more settled, and there are still flights into Europe, as well as fuel to take us where we want to go.  There are some necklaces that behave themselves politely, sitting quietly against an outfit and doing exactly what’s expected of them. And then there’s Soirée at the Seaside, which has clearly had a glass of something chilled and decided it’s far more interesting to tell stories. This piece feels like that moment when the sun has technically set, but refuses to fully leave. The sky is still holding onto its blues, the sea is catching the last of the light, and everything has that slightly dreamy, cinematic glow. You can almost hear the soft clink of glasses and the low hum of conversation somewhere just out of frame.  The layering does a lot of the talking here. Strands of blues in every possible mood wind their way around each other, from deep, saturated tones to those pale, milky beads that seem to hold light rather than reflect it. The mix of textures keeps your eye moving, never quite settling, like waves that won’t stay still long enough to be counted. And then, just when you think you’ve taken it all in, that pendant steps in and quietly steals the show. The centrepiece has a calm sort of confidence about it. It’s not shouting for attention, but it absolutely expects it. The soft, clouded stone framed with those tiny iridescent accents feels like a captured tidepool, the kind you peer into and suddenly realise there’s a whole little universe going on beneath the surface. It anchors the necklace beautifully, stopping all that movement above from drifting off into chaos.  Now, put this against a white floaty dress at the beach, and things get interesting. A white dress on its own can veer dangerously close to “accidentally wandered into someone else’s wedding.” Lovely, yes. Memorable, not always. This is where Soirée at the Seaside earns its keep. It brings contrast, colour, and just enough intrigue to make the whole look feel intentional rather than incidental. If the neckline is open and relaxed, let the necklace drop into it naturally, forming a soft 'V' that echoes the movement of the fabric. Nothing too precise, you want it to look like it landed there by chance, even though we both know better. With higher necklines, let the layers peek out instead, a suggestion rather than a statement. It’s that little glimpse that draws the eye.  And yes, a quick word on reality, because sand and sunscreen have their own agenda. Put the necklace on after your SPF has settled unless you’re aiming for an unintended high-gloss finish. And if you’re genuinely near the sea rather than just channelling it, it’s probably wise to remove it before a particularly enthusiastic wave decides to get involved.  The overall effect is this: you look like you belong exactly where you are, but also like you might disappear at any moment into a more interesting story. Which, if we’re honest, is the entire point. A seaside soirée isn’t about grand gestures. It’s about atmosphere, light, and those small details that linger long after the evening is over. This piece understands that perfectly, and paired with something as simple as a white floaty dress, it turns an outfit into a moment.  That's me for this week, folks. Have a wonderful weekend and I'll catch you soon.
Until then xx Hello folks, how are you today? Storm Dave has just passed by, wreaking havoc in it's wake and it is Easter Sunday, bright and sunny. I've been playing with beads over the Bank holiday weekend, in between doing a bit of spring cleaning in and around the house.  Name: Percy Species: Piranha (mostly harmless) Personality: Curious, colourful, slightly mischievous Favourite activity: Starting conversations at dinner parties Sometimes jewellery wants to be elegant and refined. Other times, it wants to have a bit more personality. Percy the Piranha definitely belongs in the second category.  This piece started as an experiment with colour and texture. Bead embroidery is a slow process where each bead is stitched individually into place, allowing shapes and patterns to gradually build up over time. As the design grew, the fish began to develop a personality of its own. I decided to use some of my more interesting Czech Glass beads, which I picked up on a trip to Prague.  The bright coral body gave Percy a fiery look, while the deep blue beads outlined and defined the fish. Shimmering iridescent beads mimic the look of scales catching the light underwater. But the real focal point of the piece is the eye – bright, watchful, and just a little mischievous. That’s when the name Percy appeared.  Giving handmade pieces names can transform them from simple objects into little characters. Percy isn’t just a necklace – he’s a tiny river rascal you can wear. Pieces like this are part of what makes handmade jewellery so special. They’re not mass-produced or perfectly identical. Instead, they carry the marks of the maker: the hours spent stitching, adjusting colours, and slowly bringing the design to life.  Percy the Piranha is a reminder that jewellery doesn’t always have to be serious. Sometimes it can simply be fun.
And Percy is definitely fun. That's me for this week, folks. I'm off to an Easter egg hunt with the children of a friend of mine. I'm not sure why I've been invited, but I guess the Prosecco will make up for being chilled to the marrow and for being surrounded by little creatures screaming in delight when they find the eggs hidden amongst the plants. Have a good weekend, and I'll catch you soon. Until then xx Hello everyone, how are you today? At last the sun has come out to play and spring, appears to have comprehensively sprung! Not before I got disheartened and booked an expensive holiday in Spain for later on in the year. When life gets dreary, with the constant wet and cold weather, we watch travel programs and movies set in blinding sunshine to remind ourselves that such places do exist. And then it's a short stop from opening up that wallet and dropping vast sums of money on the most beautiful hotel you can find in the sunniest country you can think of.  And in the meantime, there are always beads! Some stones perform. Lapis lazuli doesn’t. It doesn’t glitter for attention or try to win you over in the first five seconds. Instead, it plays the long game. You glance at it, think “that’s nice,” and then find yourself still looking at it ten minutes later, slightly puzzled as to why. The answer, of course, is those tiny flecks of pyrite. Little gold interruptions in all that blue, like the universe couldn’t resist adding a bit of drama after all.  The lapis in Moonlit Lapis comes from Rajasthan, and I didn’t choose neat, obedient beads. I never do. These are faceted but irregular, with edges and quirks and the occasional refusal to line up politely. When you’re painting with beads, that’s exactly what you want. Too much perfection and the whole thing goes a bit… flat. Like a dinner party where everyone agrees.   Now, if you’ve been following along for a while, you might recognise these beads. Yes, these are from that slightly ridiculous, entirely joyful shopping episode in Jaipur about ten years ago, immortalised in my Bootylicious blog post. Back when restraint was clearly not invited to the party and I returned with enough beads to open a small but respectable emporium.  There’s something rather satisfying about finally using them. It’s a bit like rediscovering a forgotten silk scarf at the back of a drawer and realising it was fabulous all along. These lapis beads have been sitting patiently, waiting for the right moment, and apparently that moment took a decade—all good things, etc.  To bring some structure to the piece, I paired the lapis with silver-toned beads sourced from Vietnam. They have this intricate, almost architectural detailing, like tiny domed ceilings or fragments of something ancient and well made. They stop the necklace from drifting off into pure bohemian abandon and give it a bit of backbone.  Then came the warm wooden accent beads. A necessary intervention. Without them, the whole piece risked becoming a little too cool, a little too serious. Beautiful, yes, but slightly aloof. The warmth brings it back down to earth, like a well-timed joke in an otherwise intense conversation.  The finished necklace feels calm, but not boring. Considered, but not overthought. It has that quiet, self-assured presence that doesn’t need to announce itself. You put it on, and somehow everything else looks more intentional, as though you planned the outfit rather than just… arrived in it. The name Moonlit Lapis came easily in the end. It has that same quality of low, steady glow. Not the harsh spotlight, more the kind of light that flatters everything and asks for nothing in return. And perhaps that’s the real charm of it. Ten years after a slightly overenthusiastic bead-buying spree in Jaipur, these stones have finally found their place. Proof, if ever it were needed, that in jewellery as in life, nothing good is ever truly wasted. It just waits. Quietly. Patiently. Probably judging me a little for being a hoarder, not willing to part with beautiful beads, or for being lazy, for not making them into a necklace earlier.
That's me for this week, folks. Have a wonderful weekend and I'll catch you soon. Until then xx Hello folks, nice to catch up with you again. It has been a couple of weeks since I have been on my blog and put something down in writing - I just haven't had the time. It continues to rain here in the UK and I wonder if this is a harbinger of a soggy summer. Of course, as if we didn't have enough to worry about, we have war mongers propping up the armaments industry in a shameful display of power and rain might be the least of our problems. In the midst of all this angst, I thought I should make the most colourful and cheerful piece of jewellery from the beads in my stash.  There is something about turquoise and red that feels slightly dangerous. It should not work as well as it does. Cool mineral blue with its quiet, spider-veined patterning. And then red coral that looks like it has been dipped in pure attitude.  When I was designing Seafoam & Scirocco, I did not want polite. I wanted contrast. The turquoise stones form a generous, almost armour-like collar. They sit confidently around the neck, substantial without being heavy. They create a frame—a stage.  And then the coral takes its bow. Each branch is irregular, organic, slightly wild. I love that nothing about it is symmetrical or overly controlled. It feels alive. That tension between composed turquoise and untamed coral is what gives the necklace its pulse.  Styling it is surprisingly easy. White shirt, sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone. Instant drama. A simple black dress. Suddenly gallery-private-view ready. Even over a plain summer dress, it becomes the focal point, the conversation starter, the “where did you get that?” piece.  This is not jewellery for shrinking violets. It is for women who have opinions. Women who have earned their space in the room. Women who understand that sometimes the necklace can speak first. And frankly, why shouldn’t it?  That's me for this week, folks. The day job promises to become busier in March, and it may be a while before I have the energy to create again - the Government is trying to squeeze as much work into the last month of this financial year as possible in a final 'sprint', and we've all been dragooned into the cause.
Have a wonderful what's left of the weekend, and I'll catch you soon. Until then xx  George Clooney's house - image C/O MSN Hello folks, how are you today? I’m sitting here looking out of the window as I type, watching yet another performance of “Fifty Shades of Grey: The Sky Edition.” Apparently, since the 1st of January 2026, we’ve had exactly one day of sunshine. One. The rest has been cloud, rain, the occasional theatrical snowfall, and that particular British cold that seeps politely but persistently into your bones. And the forecast? More of the same. Splendid. Even George Clooney hasn’t managed to charm the weather into submission. His beautiful house on the banks of the Thames has been flooded. There’s something oddly comforting about that. The universe handing out damp socks, without discrimination. Fortunately for him, he doesn’t actually live there. His newer, sunnier life is based in Spain, where the light behaves itself, and the olives glisten on cue, the politics is well-behaved and left-wing, and the people are smiling.  Some necklaces begin with a sketch. This one began with a shell that looked… ordinary. If you saw these shells in their natural state, you would probably walk past them. Long, tapered, slightly rough, matte on the outside. The sort of thing you might pick up on a beach and toss back into the sand. Nothing flashy. No obvious drama. But then they are cut. And that is when they reveal themselves.  When the ends are sliced cleanly across, the interior spirals are exposed. Tight, hypnotic whorls hidden inside that plain exterior. Soft blush tones, caramel bands, creamy ivory rings that look like miniature galaxies frozen in calcium. Suddenly, they are not beach debris. They are architecture. They are design. They are quiet secrets made visible. I love that transformation. It feels honest. Not everything powerful shouts from the outside. Those cut shell cones form the collar of Tempest Talisman, each one angled and graduated so they sit comfortably but deliberately at the neckline. There is something almost ceremonial about them. Armour, but organic.  At the centre sits the pendant. A bold spiral embroidered bead by bead, in inky monochrome with touches of warmth. It took hours of “painting with beads” to get the curve just right, to make the movement feel natural rather than forced. The spiral is framed with abalone shell, and that is where the storm begins. Abalone does not behave. It flickers between petrol blues, greens, violets and sudden silver flashes depending on the light. Indoors it murmurs. In sunlight it shimmers like lightning across water.  At the centre sits the pendant. A bold spiral embroidered bead by bead, in inky monochrome with touches of warmth. It took hours of “painting with beads” to get the curve just right, so the movement felt natural rather than forced. The spiral is framed with abalone shell, and that is where the storm begins. Abalone does not behave. It flickers between petrol blues, greens, violets and sudden silver flashes depending on the light. Indoors, it murmurs. In sunlight, it shimmers like lightning across water. Between the abalone shards are vertical sections of the same cone-shaped shells, making them look nothing like the beads in the necklace. Above the pendant, faceted crystals catch and throw light in small, sharp glints. Nothing excessive. Just enough to remind you that this piece enjoys being noticed.  People sometimes ask why a necklace like this costs more than something mass produced. The answer is simple. Time. Materials chosen one by one. The steady, slightly obsessive adjustment of tension and balance so it sits properly. The willingness to unpick sections when they are not quite right. There is no factory line here. Just patience, stubbornness, and a table covered in beads.  Tempest Talisman is not a background piece. It changes the way you stand. It asks you to lift your chin a fraction. It turns a plain black dress into something intentional. It makes a white shirt feel deliberate rather than practical.  I am not interested in shouting “buy me”. That is not how love works. But I will say this. The next time you see a shell, look twice. Sometimes the most extraordinary patterns are hidden inside something that appears unremarkable at first glance. Curiosity is a powerful thing. And this necklace rewards it.  That's me for this week, folks. Have a wonderful weekend and I'll catch you soon.
Until then, xx Hello folks, lovely to catch up with you again, Storm Goretti has been buffeting us in the UK, but somehow North Warwickshire has got away with it and we haven't been affected much, apart from a few light snow flurries. I am preparing to return to work next week, and made my first necklace for 2026 - and this ones a doozy, even if I say so myself. You can tell me what you think at the end of this blog post, once you've seen the pictures.  Every now and then, a necklace turns up that feels less designed and more… unearthed. As if it’s been discovered rather than made. Modern Mythology is exactly that sort of piece — ancient in spirit, modern in execution, and entirely uninterested in playing it safe.  At the heart of it is the Phaistos Disc — an ancient Greek symbol that has baffled archaeologists for over a century. No one quite agrees on what it means, which frankly makes it perfect jewellery material. Mystery looks good around the neck. Cast here in a warm antique-gold bronze, it anchors the piece and gives it that quiet, talismanic presence — the sort of thing people notice before they realise they’re staring.  The blister pearls are gloriously imperfect, and yes, some have missing nacre. That’s not damage, that’s honesty. Blister pearls form attached to the shell rather than floating freely, which means they grow with bumps, curves, and character — a bit like the rest of us if we’re lucky. Their irregularity is precisely what makes them beautiful; polished uniformity was never the point.  Suspended beneath them are danglers of river sediment jasper — earthy, weighty, and grounding — adding movement and just enough drama to stop things getting too polite. The whole piece is strung on gold rope and finished with a magnetic clasp, because life is too short to wrestle with fiddly fastenings. Practical can still be beautiful. Revolutionary, I know.  How to Wear It??This is where the fun starts. Modern Mythology looks outrageously good over a simple black dress, but don’t save it for evenings only. Try it with a crisp white shirt, a linen tunic, or even a chunky knit — the contrast is what makes it sing. It’s the necklace you wear when the outfit is understated but the personality is not. It also plays surprisingly well with gold hoops or stacked bangles, but honestly, it doesn’t need much company. This is a lead singer, not a backing vocalist. Modern Mythology isn’t about trends, seasons, or subtlety. It’s about stories, symbols, and wearing something that feels like it has a past — even though it’s very much of the now. One of a kind, unrepeatable, and quietly powerful. Because sometimes jewellery shouldn’t just decorate you — it should say something.  That;s me for this week, folks. Wish me luck as I go back to work after a break of eight weeks. Have a fabulous weekend and I catch you soon.
Until then xx Hello folks, how are you on New Year's Eve of 2026? Snow has been predicted in the UK, so we may be having a white New Year's Day, rather than the traditional white Christmas. As usual, we plan a small celebration at home, snuggled up in front of Jules Holland on the TV with a bottle of champagne and the cat. No New Year's shindig for us, I'm afraid. Champagne with Attitude This necklace was never going to be called something polite. Champagne With Attitude has a bit of fizz, a bit of bite, and absolutely no interest in behaving itself — which feels about right for a piece built entirely around blister pearls that refuse to play the perfection game.  Let’s talk pearls, because these are not your prim, symmetrical, finishing-school pearls. Every single one in this necklace is a blister pearl. They form when an irritant lodges itself against the shell of the oyster rather than floating freely, so the nacre builds up unevenly, creating flatter backs, organic contours, and surfaces that tell the truth about how they were made. When they’re harvested, some nacre can be lost or interrupted — that’s not damage, that’s process. Think character lines rather than flaws.  I love blister pearls precisely because they look a bit unfinished, a bit raw around the edges. They’re quietly rebellious. They shimmer, but they don’t simper. Paired with the warm, champagne-toned palette of this piece, they feel luxurious without being precious — the jewellery equivalent of knowing when to raise an eyebrow rather than curtsy.  The structure of the necklace leans into contrast: softness against strength, glow against grit. The pearls catch the light in that subtle, silky way only nacre can manage, while the surrounding elements give them backbone and confidence. Nothing here is accidental; it’s all carefully chosen to let those imperfect surfaces do the talking.  And yes, the clasp is absolutely worth mentioning. I don’t do shy little clasps that apologise for existing. This one is decorative, secure, and deliberately beautiful — designed to be worn to the side or even at the front if you’re feeling bold (and I hope you are). It’s not an afterthought; it’s the final punctuation mark. A reminder that this necklace doesn’t hide how it works, because it has nothing to be embarrassed about.  Champagne With Attitude is for someone who appreciates that beauty isn’t about uniformity, and elegance doesn’t have to behave. It’s celebratory without being saccharine, glamorous without being stiff — best worn with confidence, a dry sense of humour, and possibly an actual glass of champagne. Preferably chilled.   That's me for this week, folks. Have a wonderful week, and Happy New Year to you all from Caprilicious Jewellery. See you in 20261
Until then xx Hello, folks, how are you today? It will soon be Christmas - four days to go, now. My house is the only one in the street that isn't dripping with stalactites and migraine inducing lights - all we have is a Christmas wreath on the door. I am just too tired to bother with it this year. I did perk up for long enough to buy these beautiful blue quartz beads when they came up on my stockists website and when they arrived, they demanded to be used immediately.  Are those blue quartz nuggets not just the most beautiful beads? I'm always drawn to rough-cut nuggets, but the blue ones, in particular, are so lovely. I tend to always have a string of them in my stash and buy them as soon as their price drops on the website, as they are relatively expensive.  Ice Ice Baby started life as an exercise in contrast, because frankly I get bored when everything behaves itself. I wanted something that felt cool and crisp, but not precious; bold, but still wearable without needing a personality transplant. Enter the chunky, rough-cut blue quartz nuggets. They’re unapologetic. Uneven, slightly wild, and very much doing their own thing. They look like they’ve been chipped straight out of a glacier, which is exactly the point.  Then come the pearls. Smooth, silky, quietly elegant — the calm to the quartz’s chaos. I love how they slide in between the nuggets, softening the edges and stopping the whole thing from feeling too aggressive. The seed pearls do a similar job, acting like tiny pauses in the conversation, giving your eye a moment to breathe before the next blue bead barges in. Add the matte, sandblasted blue quartz beads, and suddenly there’s another layer: velvety, muted, almost sea-glass-like. Cool on cool, but with very different textures playing off each other. The added plus is that the necklace is lighter because of the smaller beads.  This necklace is all about those tensions — rough against smooth, matte against shine, chunky against refined. It shouldn’t work, but it really does. That’s usually a good sign.  Styling-wise, "Ice, Ice, Baby" is surprisingly versatile. It looks fantastic against a simple knit, especially in grey, navy or cream, where the blues really sing. It’s equally happy over a crisp white shirt, adding just enough drama to make it clear you didn’t just throw something on and hope for the best. And yes, it absolutely works with denim — consider it your not-so-basic upgrade. In short, this is a necklace for anyone who likes their elegance with a bit of edge. Cool, confident, and quietly doing its own thing. Just like the best Caprilicious people, really.
That's me for this week, folks. Have a wonderful week and I'll catch you soon. Until then, xx Hello folks, it's great to catch up with you again. I haven't left the house for two weeks now and am beginning to go stir crazy, although I don't really want to go out in this weather. It just seems too much trouble to wrap up warm and venture out of the house to go nowhere. So I did the next best thing - I played with beads!  There’s something wonderfully liberating about a necklace that refuses to behave itself quietly, and Coral Carnival is exactly that sort of creature. It’s loud—in the best possible way—joyful, cheeky, and just a tiny bit irreverent, like the best parties always are.  I started with those fabulously wiggly faux-coral fronds, all pink and playful, like a troupe of synchronised swimmers who’ve had one espresso too many. They immediately set the tone: this was going to be a necklace with personality. Add in chunky silvery beads, a scattering of real coral tucked between them like little secrets, and suddenly the whole thing felt like a celebration waiting to happen.  Of course, a carnival needs its supporting cast, so in came the waxed red wooden beads wrapped with polymer-clay swirls, a stately wooden spool bead dressed up in silver, and those quirky hand-made polymer pieces that look like they've wandered in from an art fair. The entire ensemble sits beautifully at about 26 inches—perfect for tossing over a sweater, a simple shift dress, even your most boring T-shirt, which won’t stay boring for long.
Styling Coral Carnival is delightfully easy. You don’t have to match a thing—this necklace does all the heavy lifting. Let it clash, let it contrast, let it steal the show. Honestly, that’s what it came for. If jewellery could shimmy, this one would.  So here it is: colourful, flamboyant, a little wild, and very much a mood. I loved bringing Coral Carnival to life, and I hope it brings a burst of joy (and maybe a few compliments) into your day too. This reminds me of the other coral frond necklace in my books - it couldn't be more different from this one, possibly even showier, if that's possible!  That's me for this week, folks. Have a wonderful weekend and I'll catch you soon.
Until then xx |
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